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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 6, 1945)
Boys Will Welcome This Cake Overseas! (See Recipes Below) Scad It Overseas! It won't be long now before you can «twrt those Christmas presents boys in camp try; and sailors and marines sta tioned overseas can also receive packages at any time. For your local service centers, you can bake luscious, frosted cakes, but you will have to reserve cakes that will pack well and travel easily for "over there.” It has been found that cukes with fruits and nuts stay fresh longer than plainer ones Use frosting that doesn't rub olT easily or crack if you are sending the cake to some camp in this coun try For overseas, it's best to send uofrosiarf cakes The use of cake flour will give a rake fine grain, and such a cake will not crumble easily during shipment. And do pack both cakes and cookies as tightly and securely as you can to assure their arriving in the best |H>salbte condition. Here are some of the nominations for cakes and cookies that pack well and travel easily. The first is an easily mixed fudge type cake: Fadge Nut Cake, fi oops sifted cake Hoar 1 lrs»|HM« sod* % teaspoon salt H cop vegetable shortening j m ropa brown sugar, firmly parked IK caps milk j 1 teaspoon vanilla ‘ I eggs, unbeaten ) S square* unsweetened choro i late, melted over boiling water I 1 owp coarsely rbopped nuts Sift flour once, measure Into a sifter with soda and salt. Have shortening at room temperature, nu* or stir to soften Sift in dry ingredients. Add brown sugar, fore on thetr way to the soldiers over seas. Of course, you can send baked goods at any time to the here in this coun ing through a otevd to remove lumpa, if neeea* sary. Add % cup milk, vanilla and egg; Mix until all the flour ia dampened, then beat l minute. Add remaining milk and blend. Add melted chocolate and beat 2 minutes longer. Fold in nuts (Count only actual beating time or strokes.) Allow at least 100 strokes to the minute. Scrape bowl anil spoon often. Turn into a greased (13x9x2 inch) pan which has been greased lined on the bot tom with waxed paper and greased ogam. Bake in a moderate (375 degree) oven for 35 minutes or un til done. AmHw good, substantial cake with the flavor of orange, honey and nuts is also a good choice for over seas shipping. I ynn Says Try These Tips: Transform yesterday’s roast into a scalloped casserole, a quick stew. Shep herd’s pie or hash. Bits of cheese and eggs and vegetables can be ground up. mixed with mayonnaise or sal ad dressing to make delicious sandwich fillings. Leftover vegetables are also welcome in soups. Or, add them to meat loaves or mold in gela tin salads. Leftover sandwiches can be toasted to add new. delightful fla vor to them. Call them toast wi.ches. Several kinds of leftover canned or fresh fruit can be a topping for upside-down cake. Dried out cake and cookies can be used for bread pudding. Leftover rice makes de luxe waffle* or griddle cakes. Lynn Chambers’ Point-Saving Menus Vegetable Casserole with Cranberry Jelly Melon Ball-Cottage Cheese Salad Sour Milk Biscuits Spread •Orange Honey Nut Cake Beverage •Recipe given. •Orange Honey Nut Cake. 2 cups sifted cake flour teaspoons baking powder % teaspoons salt !4 cup butter or shortening Vt cup sugar % cup honey 2 egg yolks % cup orange juice 2 egg whites, stiffly beaten % cup nuts, if desired Sift flour once, measure, add baking powder and salt and sift together three times. Cream butter thorough ly, add sugar gradually, and cream together until light and fluffy. Add honey vo—. •lowly and blend. Add egg yolks and beat thoroughly Add flour, al ternately with orange juice, a small amount at a time, beating after each addition until smooth. Fold in egg whites. Bake in two greased 9-inch layer cake pans in a moder ate (350-degree) oven 30 to 35 min utes. There are any number of cookies which will keep easily and travel well even if they travel far. Here are suggestions for those camp and overseas boxes: Honey Chocolate Chip Cookies. H cup hutter or substitute K cup honey 1 small egg 1 cup sifted flour 1 teaspoon baking powder Y* teaspoon salt H teaspoon vanilla H cup semi-sweet chocolate chips H cup nutineats, chopped Cream butter and honey until light and fluffy. Add egg and beat well. Sift flour, baking powder and salt twice. Add flour mixture to butter mixture; then add vanilla and blend all well. Fold in choco late chips and nuts. Chill and drop by spoonfuls on a greased cookie sheet. Bake in a fairly hot (375 degree) oven for 12 minutes. Honey Pecan Cookies. Vi cup butter or substitute 1 cup honey 1 egg Vi cup sour milk 2 cups flour H teaspoon soda % teaspoon salt % cup pecans Vi cup each of raisins, candied cherries and dates Cream butter and honey. Add the egg, sour milk, flour which has been sifted with soda and salt. Add the fruits and nuts, Drop on greased tins and bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes. Spicy and sweet are these fruit spice bar cookies. They are easy to pack and they mellow with age: Fruit Spice Bars. 1 cup sifted flour *•« teaspoon soda teaspoon salt % teaspoon ginger !4 cup shortening St cup brown sugar H cup molasses 2 eggs, beaten teaspoon vauilla 1 cup raisins '« cup nuts Sift together flour, soda, salt and ginger. Cream together shortening and sugar until light and fluffy. Add molasses and blend well. Add eggs and vanilla extract. Mix well. Add flour mixture gradually to creamed mixture, blending well Fold in raisins and nuts. Spread batter into a greased pan 7x11 inches. Bake in a moderate (.350-degree) oven. Cut in bars. O o 0 c7cmcvuow iS^ btf f GWEN iiBRISTOW 3vl£Vt/l 1 fAT URU THE STORY THUS FAR: Sprat! Her long, motion picture producer, married Elizabeth after ber Brit husband, Arthur Klttredge, had been reported killed In World War L Elizabeth bad bees or phaned when a baby and raised by her aunt and uncle In Tulsa, where she met and married Arthur. Shortly after their marriage, Aithur enlisted, and soon aft erwards was reported killed. Elizabeth moved Co Los Angeles, where she met and married SpratL Arthur had not been kUled, but disfigured and left almost help less. Dr. Jacoby worked over him and managed to save him. Under the name of Kessler, Arthur landed ia Los An geles In Spratt’s offlet. CHAPTFR XI He shivered with a cold gust of hate whenever he remembered how the N^zis had hounded that great man to his death for no crime but the un forgivable iniquity of having been born a Jew, and of being so rock bound in his own goodness that he was incapable of accepting the evil of mankind until it had crushed him beyond escape. There had been little he could do in his love for Jacoby's memory, nothing but get to the United States while there was still time to save Jacoby's child. His grief and rage at what had happened to his friend, and his ter ror lest he not be able to bring Ja coby’s little girl to safety, had been so great that not until he was on the westbound steamer did he real ize that when he got to America he was probably going to see Elizabeth. He knew her husband’s name was Spratt Herlong and that he was em ployed by Vertex Studio, and In his own luggage was a contract signed In the Paris office of Vertex. He would be virtually sure to meet Her long some day, and it might follow as a matter of course that he would meet Elizabeth. He went into his cabin and looked at himself a long time in the glass, as he was doing now. If there was a chance of her knowing him he would break his contract and make a living as a translator, a clerk, anything that would provide little Margaret with three meals a day without destroy ing Elizabeth's peace of mind. But a long scrutiny satisfied him that there was no chance of it. In no sense, except the memory of her behind all that had happened since that explosion at Chateau-Thierry, could he believe he had any trace of the Arthur Kittredge she had known. He was Erich Kessler, dear friend of the late Dr. Gustav Jacoby, author of books based on case histories of Dr. Jacoby's patients, and the change in his personality was as thorough as the change in his name. No man who had endured what he had endured in body and spirit could have much left in common with a happy, arrogant youth who did not know what it was to want anything he could not get. He looked thoughtfully at hit im age in the glass. Crippled as he was, his appearance was not repulsive. One could see that In spite of his uncertain legs he had been meant for a tall man, and since his torso had to carry his weight the muscles there were powerfully developed. The effect was inevitably one-sided, since his left sleeve had been empty so long, but his right arm was like that of an athlete, and the hand which for twenty years had support ed him upon a cane, was strong enough to break a china cup be tween the thumb and fingers. His face had no visible trace of the wound there except a scar that went upward from beneath his beard In a thin curving line. His hair was still thick, gray like steel; his beard was heavy too, and darker. He had let it grow with no thought of disguise, but to cover the scars that all Ja coby's careful skin-grafting had not been able to eliminate. Now he was glad he had it and was so used to It, for in spite of having seen thou sands of Hitler's pictures most Americans still thought of Germans as being professors in dark beards. She would not know him, but he would know her. as readily as he had known the picture standing on Spratt Herlong's desk. To be sure, he had been looking for it, but he would have recognized it anyway as Elizabeth She had changed in those years, of course, but her alteration had been nothing more than the well ordered development from youth into the maturity that could have been foreseen by anyone who had been as intimately acquainted with her as he had. Elizabeth had al ways known what she wanted out of life, because she was so eminently fit to have it. Physically and spirit ually, she had wanted love, mar riage, children, a home in which she would be no petted darling, but a versatile and devoted creator From the beginning she had instinctively known herself capable of bringing all this into being, and so she had looked forward to it with the eager ness of those who have no doubt of their destiny. When he met Spratt, and saw the pictures of Eliz abeth in Spratt’s office, he felt that the change time had made in her appearance had been no more than the change one observes in the achievement of something of which one has seen the beginning. Now that he could think of her without the pain of the earlier years, he was glad he had been wise enough to step aside so that she could have it. He saw the pictures last week, on the first day he went into Spratt’s office. Spratt had been talking for some time about the script, and if Kessler’s attention had wandered it was no matter, since he was going to read the script tomorrow anyway. When Spratt had finished, and he himself had risen to leave, he glanced at the photograph on the desk, saying with the casualness born of years of. self-command. "Your wife, Mr. Herlong?" Spratt said, “Why yes,” taking up the picture and handing it to Kess ler with the proud smile of a man showing his friend a treasure. "But that’s not very good of her—at least, I never did think those formal por traits were as good as candid shots, too smooth and pressed-out, if you get what I mean.” “Yes. I understand and agree with you.” Kessler was looking at her face. "But this is very charming.” “Oh yes, so it is, but this one on the wall looks more like her. Over here by the door. Those are the chil dren with her.” Kessler followed Spratt and looked at the picture on the wall. “But this is very charming.*' "Yes, yes,” he said with involun tary eagerness, "that, I am sure, is more like her." For it was like her, he knew that without having seen the original in so long. The picture had been taken somewhere outdoors, perhaps on a ranch. Today, alone in his office, he let his memory go back to the days when he had realized he had to do this because he loved Elizabeth too much to do anything else. The first days after the battle were nothing but confusion, fever and pain. He was in a place where there were a lot of other men on other cots, and women with pale harassed faces try ing to take care of them, but he could not understand anything that was being said or anything that was done. He was strapped up in band ages that were far from clean, and among the people around him was a man gaunt as an ascetic, who came over now and then and did various horrible things to him. He did not know then that in those closing days of the war in Cermany there was not cloth enough for fresh bandages or soap enough to wash those that had been used, or drugs to relieve suf fering. or that his attendants had white faces and shaky hands be cause they were not getting enough to eat. Even when he began to dis cover this he did not care, because by that time he had begun to dis cover also the extent of the damage these Germans had done to him. He had no doubt that he was going to die. and the only wish he was strong enough to make was that he might die quickly and get it over. Babbling in the only language he knew, he begged the gaunt cruel man to let him alone. At flrst the doctor seemed to be paying no at tention, but one day his patient ob served that he was talking, and aft er several repetitions the ungainly syllables acquired meaning. The doctor was saying. ‘‘Forgive me that I hurt you." His accent was so thick as to be almost unintelligible, but the fact that he had any English at all gave a flash of hope to the mangled ob ject on the cot. Any effort was tor ture, but if this fool of a doctor could be made to understand that a dying man wanted nothing more than to be left in peace, It was worth the effort. His own words were muf fled because of the bandage on his chin, but he managed to get them out. "Listen to me. 1 am not one of your countrymen—you know that, don’t you? My name is Arthur Kit tredge. I am an American. Your enemy—don’t you get that? I am going to die anyway. Why don’t you just let me do it?" The doctor said something. Arthur did not understand it until it had been repeated several times, and when he flnaHy caught the words they were not worth the trouble of listening, tor all the doctor said was, “Quiet. You be quiet.” Arthur tried again, desperate with pain and weakness. "Do me a kindness. Give me something to fin ish it, won’t you?—Please listen— I’m talking as plain as I can? Fin ish it. That’s not much to ask, is it?” Again the doctor said, “Quiet.” “If you don’t care about doing a kindness to me, do it for somebody who can get up again—one of your own men. Why should you let me fill up a bed when German soldiers are lying on the floor? Or waste food on me when you haven’t enough for your own? Don't keep me—’* His words ended in a gasp of pain. But he still looked at the doctor, too weak to say any more but conscious enough to plead with his eyes. Whether or not the doctor had un derstood all his words, he had grasped enough to know what Ar thur wanted. He shook his head. “No,” he said. "No.” Exhausted as he was, Arthur could see him groping for more words. Mustering all his strength, Arthur managed to say again, “I am going to die anyway.” ‘‘No, no. You are not going to die.” He spoke with a grim resolution that seemed to typify all Arthur had ever heard about the coldness of Germans and their inability to un derstand any reason why they might not always be right. Arthur was not able to form any more words, but he looked at the doctor with eyes that Jacoby told him later conveyed all his rage and disbelief. Arthur knew he was going to die and he wanted it over. But Jacoby’s thin face had no yielding in it. Jacoby left him then, but he came back later, and this time his bony hand brought up a German-English dic tionary out of his frayed pocket. Even with this aid, his English was so poor that he could convey noth ing but a repetition of his refusal. Alone in his prison of pain, Arthur thought, ‘‘At home they’d shoot a dog that had been smashed by a truck. But this can’t last much long er. It can’t. If I hadn't been so healthy it would be over by now. But, have these people no mercy at all? I’d shoot the most heartless German under heaven before I’d let him die a death like this.” He was glad Elizabeth could not see him. She would never know any thing about this lingering torment. They would simply tell her he was dead and she would think it had been quick and clean. ‘‘He never knew what hit him,” they would say to her, and at least it would be easi er for her than if she had to know how long it had taken him to die. And of course he did have one thing to be thankful for—if that shell had to hit him, he could be glad it had done its work. He would be dead and done with, and would not have to go back to her a half-human cari cature of what used to be her hus band. Though that wretch of a Ger man doctor refused to shorten this last phase, though he might be beas* enough to enjoy seeing one of his enemies get what was coming to him, even he could not indefinitely prolong it. But at last Arthur discovered, with a revulsion that he could not have expressed if he had known the whole dictionary by heart, that this was exactly what the doctor meant to do to hirr. Jacoby had been trying to talk to him for some days. Arthur had ceased trying to understand him. He had about given up trying to do the only thing that interested him, which was to refuse nourishment and get it over that way, for they fed him through a tube and he was too weak to resist. He hated the sight of the doctor with his gaunt face and thin cruel hands. But though he could not resist him. he did not have to listen to the man’s awkward manipulations of the Eng lish language and try to make sense out of them. However, the creature persisted, talking to him with many references to his dictionary. Unable to pro nounce Arthur’s name, he called him Kitt. He kept telling him something, in a low, insistent voice. He kept at it so long that at last one day the words he had been hearing ar ranged themselves in Arthur’s mind and became an orderly sequence Stripped of its grotesqueries and repetitions, what Arthur understood went like this: “You are not going to die. Kitt. You will be alive a long time. Not as you were. But you have your eyes, your hearing, the jaw will heal and there will be a hand. I think you will be able to sit upright. Walking I cannot promise, but I will try. It will be long and hard. But work with me, Kitt, and I will work with you. Do you understand me? You are not going to die.” Arthur made an inarticulate noise. He looked at the doctor’s steely blue eyes. They were fixed on him with a determination that made Arthur feel that this fellow was regarding him not as a man but as the subject of an inhuman experiment. In stead of letting him go, Jacoby was going to keep him conscious for years to come, simply to prove that he could do it. (TO Be CONTINUE!!* SEWING CIRCLE PATTERNS Tot's Jumper and Matching Jacket 8910 2-8 yri. JUST the thing for a growing ** youngster—an adorable little jumper and jacket to match. Your young daughter will love the full cut skirt and gay button trim. Make it in a pretty checked or plaid material in her favorite color. • • • Pattern No. 8910 comes In sizes 2, 3, 4. 3. 6 and 8 years. Size 3. jumper, re quires Hi yards of 35 or 39 inch mate rial; Jacket, Hi yards. Television, Like Movies, Can Create Odd Illusions Like the movies and radio, tele vision can be made to create illu sions, one of the oddest being the blending of two scenes taken simul taneously by two cameras, says Collier’s. For instance, a recently tele vised act showing a man and a woman dancing in flames higher than their heads was produced by Camera No. 1 photographing the dancers from a distance of 20 feet and Camera No. 2 photographing the flames of some oil-soaked waste from a distance of two feet. Due to an unusually large demand and tha current conditions, slightly mort time is required in Ailing orders for a few of the most popular pattern numbers. SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 530 South Wells St. Chicago j Enclose 25 cents In coins for each pattern desired. Pattern No. Si7<* Name-— Add resa Win Free Beauty Course Learn Beauty Culture, make from $125.00 to $250.00 monthly. Big demand for our graduates. . . . 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